


Vincent Krane drabbles

by mcbscene



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, OC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 18:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9671411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcbscene/pseuds/mcbscene
Summary: A series of drabbles regarding my OC Vincent (V.K) Krane.





	

Vincent Krane dug his hands further into his inner pockets on his blazer, walking back into the base of the infamous deadlock gang, swinging open the warehouse doors with a grin. He pulled up his mask again - his smile obvious on his face. He sighed, yawning a little as he unbuttoned his shirt. 

“Fuck guys. Cops almost got me back there.” He complained, drawing a small crowd of rebels around him.

“What you got, V.K?” One enquired, drawing closer to him.

“Calm it - okay? Let me show ya’” He smiled, taking off his blazer, and digging through the pockets. He smiled, pulling a small carton of pills, slamming them on the table beside him. He kept digging, sticks of marijuana and syringes of heroin littering the table. 

“Alright guys - don’t go crazy” Krane smirked, gesturing to the table. “I got the drugs - you got the money. You better tell me where Jesse is - huh?” He demanded semi-aggressively in an attempt to threaten his partners. “He’s got the money - right?”

Another nodded, gesturing to the back room where the cowboy could usually be found smoking a stick of tobacco. He always kept the tobacco separate from the rest of his collection - just for the famed McCree. He liked it that way - and it always made him a couple extra dollars.

He knocked on the door. “McCree? You in there?” he asked, waiting for the adolescent’s grunt in reply.

“Yea - come in” 

Vincent opened the door, smiling a little at the sight of Jesse leaning back on his chair, his cowboy boots on the table. “Hey, Cowboy, Got us some cigs.” He smiled, placing an embossed tin sporting the DEADLOCK logo. He opened it up, running his fingers through the tobacco filling the tin. “Let’s roll some up - huh?”

Jesse grinned, pulling the cigarette paper from his pocket and heavily loading tobacco on the paper, rolling it up with a smile. V.K copied, lighting his tobacco stick and taking a deep breath in as he gripped it in between his teeth. He smirked blowing the smoke playfully into McCree’s face. McCree scowled, leaning back in the chair - closing his eyes with a sigh. “There’s a reason I keep ya’ in business, Krane. Because you always know where the good stuff is-” he smirked. 

“I gotcha. Where’s the dollar then?” The dealer enquired. “I don’t do this for free”

“Of course, of course” McCree sighed, passing a couple twenties to Vincent with a nod. “There ya go - Krane.” 

Vincent accepted, pocketing the money and returning to his cigarette. “Thanks-” 

The sound of gunfire broke the two’s somewhat intimate moment, causing Krane to leap out of his seat, reaching for the pistol in his back pocket, pointing at the door with a growl. Jesse copied, standing behind him. “Stay behind me - cowboy. Shoot if someone comes” 

The sound of gunfire died, as the slow, steady sound of heavy footsteps began to approach the door. The yelled slurs of his partners could be heard over sounds of chains and handcuffs.

“Fuckin’ Overwatch - V… innit…” McCree muttered. “If they come in here - fire at will, Krane. I got your back”

Rhythmic bangs could be heard on the door, each one louder and closer to the pair than the last. Vincent shivered, tightening his grip on the pistol, debating whether or not to fire a warning show. He declined, keeping his mouth shut and his eyes locked on the door. He stepped back a little further, as the door began to crack. 

A final shot to the door broke it down, as a masked man holding two guns stared at the two of them - making it clear that neither of them had a chance against him. Krane found himself taking the first shot against him, Jesse’s shots followed - yet the masked soldier did not fire back. 

“Hold fire-” Jesse mumbled, as the room went silent. 

“Your friends are dead-” The muffled voice began. “Or they’re gonna be. I’m making an offer for the two of you. You’re gonna tell us what you know - and we’ll find some work for you. Then you don’t die. Or-” The man fired a shot into the ceiling. “-you die”

“Fine-” V.K sighed. “But if you shoot us in the back - we’ll fucking rain down”


End file.
